Figment of my Imagination

Somehow we got to talking about how fortune cookies were made last night.

Zen Master had once seen a machine that baked these delicate cookies. That machine had a conveyor belt that slowly chugged chugged the raw dough through the oven, baking it softly, before chug chugging it back out. A paper fortune would then be slapped into it until finally, the cookie would be unceremoniously folded into its traditional shape before free-falling into a container at the end of the belt. All this without human intervention.

You gotta love technology and machinery.

But this was what I heard for most of the conversation.

Blahblahblahblah…fortune cookie…blahblahblahwawawawa…cookie…wow…..

This was also what happened to me as I stared at Zen Master as he was talking.

** eyes…glazing…over **

** mind…must…wander **

** mind…now…floating… **

Until he jumped up excitedly in his seat, snapping me out of my reverie.

“And that’s how it makes the fortune cookies!”

“That’s great, really great.” I said, before asking, “Now how are they made again?”

If only this was just a figment of my imagination. Alas, sadly, no, this conversation really did happen this way.